Forthwith he calls his comrades to arise And take fresh heart, and for the fight prepare.
Now, from the stern, the Dardans he espies, Hemmed in their camp.

Aloft his hands upbear The burning shield.

With shouts his Dardans tear Heaven's concave.

Hope with fury fires their veins.
Fast fly their darts, as when through darkened air With clang and clamour the Strymonian cranes Stream forth, the signal given, from winter's winds and rains.
XXXVII.

Then lost in wonderment, the foemen stand, Till, looking round, they see the watery ways A sea of ships, all crowding to the land, The flaming crest, the helmet all ablaze, The golden shield-boss, with its lightning rays.
As when a comet, bright with blazing hair, Its blood-red beams athwart the night displays, Or Sirius, rising, with its baleful glare Brings pestilence and drought, and saddens all the air.
XXXVIII.